Stones of Fire

65

Stunned, the six of them stood rooted in place.

‘What the fuck happened?’ Braxton muttered, expressing what everyone in the group was no doubt thinking, all that remained of the Priory of the Blessed Virgin Mary being three stone walls punctuated with arched windows, tangled strands of dead ivy cascading from the glassless openings.

‘It looks like it was hit by mortar fire.’ This from MacFarlane, his leathery cheeks flushed with what Edie assumed to be barely contained rage.

‘My guess is that the priory was destroyed during the Reformation,’ Cædmon stated quietly. ‘In 1538, Parliament, at the behest of Henry VIII, issued an edict known as the Dissolution of the Monasteries. The law enabled Henry to confiscate all property owned by the monastic orders. Aided by many in the general population, who hoped that Church riches would stick to their greedy hands, many monastic buildings were demolished and the stone reused for secular building projects.’

Edie stared at the eerie remains: the gouged Gothic shell open to the heavens, the sheaves of ice-laden grass shimmering jewel-like. Perhaps it was the early-morning mist, but she could have sworn that a ghostly hint of incense and candles and chanted prayers still lingered.

She turned and glanced at Cædmon, asking the silent question: What if the next clue was contained in a piece of stained glass that had been smashed to smithereens centuries ago? With an almost imperceptible shake of the head, he warned her against voicing her query. He then pointedly glanced at Stanford MacFarlane. Edie got the message loud and clear. If MacFarlane thought the game was up, she and Cædmon would be killed on the spot. No matter what, they had to maintain the pretext that it was still game on.

Startled by a screech, Edie turned.

Perched on the branch of a leafless tree was a raven.

Although not a superstitious person by nature, she considered the raven a very bad omen.